I put it off yesterday, so traumatized was I after a session in Sainsbury's. At the local branch here in Brislington, it was not the staff but gormless young chavs half way between a hangover and a bender, who dressed as Santa or as an elf and roamed the aisles in search of cheap alcohol or mass produced junk food. Such is Christmas 2016 in Britain. It is a long way from a manger in Bethlehem and the poor shepherds.
Jesus would certainly not have been born in Brislington Sainsbury. No wise men were in sight and I reckon you'd also be hard pushed to find a virgin among the semi inebriated elves.
But I must again face retail hell today. There is the second present for the Mrs ( I know which shop that is easy) and then 2 packs of butter, bread, crackers, icing sugar and I am done at a present and at a culinary level.
My father has a phrase about somewhere ghastly being like hell on Christmas Eve. In consumerist Britain any place where there are shops is indeed hell not only on Christmas Eve but for most of the week that proceeds it.
Now into battle to face the chavs dressed as elves. Wish me luck.